


Of Feathers and Fall

by AngelofAlderaan



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Wings, Fallen Angels, Flying, Gen, Lower Tadfield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 06:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20041111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofAlderaan/pseuds/AngelofAlderaan
Summary: When Aziraphale and Crowley decide to spend the weekend in Tadfield, they make a discovery and must do some soul searching about who they both are.This fic was inspired by some fan art I saw in IG! If I find it again I'll be sure to tag the artist.





	Of Feathers and Fall

The sun danced off the dust in the old bookshop and in the back room, Aziraphale was humming merrily to himself, an old opera most people of the 21st century had forgotten long ago. He was just finishing up packing up an old cooler with food enough for a weekend. It had been nearly a month since their trial and swap. Crowley had still been rather tense since the events of that week, and the angel decided they needed to get away for a weekend. Somewhere quiet, away from prying eyes, where they could be at ease any maybe even stretch their wings. He also fancied a visit to their new friends, so he rented them a cottage on the outskirts of Tadfield, and let Anathema know of their plans. She had been delighted to know they were coming and invited them to dinner at Jasmine cottage.

  
The little bell above the door jingled and Crowley sauntered in, all hips and and limbs. "Morning, Angel! Ready to go?" He poked around the corner looking for the principality.

  
"In the back!" He came out carrying the old cooler. It had tartan straps, which the demon rolled his eyes at. "Ready!" Crowley took the cooler from him and led the way out, while Aziraphale grabbed a bag of books and locked the shop up behind them. They would only need the cooler for the weekend, and honestly, they really didn't even need that, but they enjoyed eating, and Aziraphale wanted to have a picnic while they were in the country. The demon loaded up the Bentley and the engine roared to life (though he hadn't started it.)

...

The drive was pleasant, far different from the past two times they had been out there. This time, Crowley even remembered to bring new classical music to play in the car (purchased that morning to ensure it would not have a chance metamorphosis into the voice of Freddie Mercury.) It was only upon leaving London that they ran into any trouble. Someone behind them was blaring their rap music, the base thumping.

"Obnoxious." Aziraphale muttered under his breath. A sudden puff of black smoke, and the thumping in the car behind them ceased. The angel glanced over at the demon.

  
"Well, it _was_ annoying."

  
Before long they were at the cottage. "This is so quaint!" A word Crowley wouldn't have used. Old, antique, not quaint. The cooler was brought in and Aziraphale set to work unpacking it and putting food away. Crowley made his way around the cottage. Two bedrooms, one bath. The decor reminded him of an old lady who knits named Marple. It would do. He knew that Aziraphale would most likely not even be using his bed over the weekend, so he wasn't sure why they needed two bedrooms. The Angel usually sat up reading at night. In fact, he didn't think he had ever known him to sleep.

  
Aziraphale came around the corner with his bag of books and set them next to the table in the living room. "Oh, even a fireplace, lovely!" He straightened his waistcoat and grinned. "Yes, this will do nicely. I might even sleep a little tonight. It's actually quiet here." Now Crowley knew why the angel never slept. Hadn't he ever tried earplugs?

  
Alright, he guessed this was a nice change. It was homey. It wasn't the angel's bookshop, but it was okay.

  
"So, anyone about right now?" Aziraphale asked. If Crowley didn't know better, he would have thought the angel had an almost mischievous look on his face.

  
Concentrating, the demon reached out, feeling for the presence of any humans near by. He wouldn't have to stop time to avoid being seen this time. That required a lot of concentration and could really drain him if he had to. "We're in the clear. Shall we, Angel?" He indicated the door. The two made their way outside. The warm fall sun hit the crisp leaves that were starting to fall from the trees.

  
Aziraphale breathed in the wonderful fall air and relaxed. A soft swoosh sound and his wings extended, white and soft. He flapped them once or twice, exercising long unused muscles. Of course he didn't really need to, but it felt good nonetheless.

  
Wings the color of midnight spread toward the sky. This was a wonderful idea, thought Crowley. He had no idea how tense he had been since the not-apocalypse and their trials.

  
Aziraphale let his wings spread wide, breathing out a contented sigh.

  
"Fancy a race, Angel?" The demon had a mischievous grin on his face, but Aziraphale took no notice of it. What he saw were several pure white feathers peeking out like stars against the velvet black of the demon's wings. Crowley saw the change in his friend's demeanor. "What is it?"

  
His gaze turned towards his wings, where the angel had been looking. "Oh." He paused. "That's--different." He looked back towards Aziraphale, feeling confused, but almost happy. Then immediately his heart sank.

  
"See, I told you deep down you were a good person." Aziraphale was grinning now from ear to ear. "I'd like to think--" he was cut off by Crowley's instant change of expression. Now it was his turn to stare.

  
The angel glanced left and right, looking his wings up and down. Sure enough, several black feathers pierced the pure white. "Oh." He sat himself down on the ground with a bit of a thump. "Well I'll be-"  
Crowley cut him off. "Don't say it." He glanced away. Behind his shades, Aziraphale swore he could see a tear forming. Getting back up to his feet, he stepped over to the demon, putting a hand on his shoulder.  
"Don't you dare blame yourself for this. I made my choice to stand by your side. I couldn't imagine facing eternity without my best friend." This was the first time in 6000 years he openly admitted how close they were. He reached out and touched a white feather that stood stark against Crowley's midnight black wings he smiled. "Besides, I'd like to think these are just my good influence on you."

  
Crowley turned away. In an instant, his wings were gone. "You know, I really don't feel like racing anymore." He threw his hands in his pockets and started off up the drive, past the Bentley toward the road.  
"Crowley!" The Angel called after him and taking a step forward.

  
"I need to think." Crowley called back without looking. Had he looked back, he would have seen Aziraphale fold his wings up and stare forlornly after him.

...

Crowley had been walking for sometime before he heard the soft sounds of a dog's yip up ahead. Coming around the bend, a young boy in a mackintosh was walking a small dog. Crowley recognized him immediately. "Well hello, Adam." The boy turned back and a big smile filled his face.

  
"Mr. Crowley! What are you doing here?" Dog sniffed at the demon's shoes. Funny, this time he didn't smell like a demon, he smelled more like Adam, not quite human, but definitely not of this plane. He liked it, and took a seat by him.

  
"Angel, erm, Aziraphale, and I are out here for a weekend. Going to visit with Anathema and Newt tonight, and we were hoping to see you kids." He bent down to pet Dog, not really thinking about it. Crowley never had been good with animals, part of his snake like nature always kept them away from him.

  
The boy cocked his head. "Where's Mr. Aziraphale?"

  
Crowley shrugged behind him. "Back at the cottage." His voice betrayed his emotions more than he wanted.

  
Adam frowned. "Did you two have a spat? That happens with me and the gang. You should be back there working it out. That's what me and the gang do."

  
"No, it's not like that. I just--something happened and I just needed time to think." He looked away. The two started walking together towards lower Tadfield. "Adam, how do your friends feel about you, now that they know who you are?"

  
"The Them? Oh, they're alright with it. Though sometimes Pepper gives me a hard time over it, but that's just Pepper. They all know I'm still me." The wind blew gently around them as they walked. This was perfect weather for flying, and they were missing out.

  
Crowley took a hand out of a pocket and pushed up his shades. "They're not scared you're gonna change again?"

  
"Naw. Besides, I need 'em. They remind me of who I really am. Just Adam."

  
Out of the mouths of babes, thought Crowley. Aziraphale hadn't changed at all. He was still his straight-laced friend who loved books, classical music, and crepes. No more than Crowley had changed from his own mischievous self. If nothing else, they had both grown. Neither belonged to a side, and perhaps this is what was starting to be reflected in themselves. The Angel hadn't fallen, and the Demon hadn't been redeemed. They both had defied Heaven and Hell, saved the world, and then forsaken their sides once more to save each other from extinction. This was a lot to take in, and part of him still felt a huge pang of guilt for having brought his friend to this point. But Aziraphale chose to stand by his side, chose to change his face and descend to Hell.

  
Then the what ifs started stirring in his mind. What if he hadn't mucked things up and brought Adam to the "right" family. What if everything had gone according to the "great plan"? Would they have done the same thing? Would Aziraphale chosen to still stand by his side?

  
Yes, they both had been incompetent, but he knew deep down the outcome would have been the same, that was what they were striving for regardless to begin with. Only, none of them would be on this earth this day, save maybe Adam if he had won.

  
Crowley paused in his tracks. "Adam, I've gotta go, but we'll swing by to see you kids tomorrow, okay?"

  
Stopping, Adam smiled. "Okay, sounds good. See ya tomorrow, Mr. Crowley."

  
Turning back up the way they had come, Crowley started to jog, which after a few moments became a sprint. Suddenly, he realized his feet weren't even on the ground, he was gliding over the earth, wings outspread. A gleeful smile spread across his face and he shot up over the road, flying high overhead. In moments he spotted the cottage below and soared back down, landing beside the Bentley. Without stopping, he jogged toward the door, wings gone, and rushed inside.

  
A cozy flame was blazing in the fireplace, and Aziraphale was in a wing chair in front of it reading, a cup of tea steaming on the table next to him. A bottle of wine and two glasses had also been laid out. Normally under such stress, Crowley would have immediately poured himself a glass, but this time he ignored it. Aziraphale turned away from his book to gaze up at the demon. "Crowley! Listen we need to talk."

  
Sprawling out in the other wing chair, Crowley removed his sunglasses and reached over and placed a hand on his friend's. "Yes, but hear me out." The angel seemed to cut off mid thought, but nodded. "I shouldn't have just walked off. I wasn't thinking. I was just upset at myself." Aziraphale tried to cut in, but Crowley held up a finger and sat up a bit. "I thought I had changed you, caused you to stumble down to my fate. But I was wrong, you're still the Angel I have always known. And, I am honored that you decided to stand by me."

  
Aziraphale placed his other hand on top of Crowley's. "My dear boy, I may have poorly expressed it before, but I hope my actions have shown that I still stand by my choices. Besides, I would rather not have to find another demon to put up with me for another 6000 years." He chuckled. Crowley smiled and returned the laugh. The Angel breathed in. "So, our own side then?"

...

"You know you are both idiots." Anathema set down a bowl of potatoes on the kitchen table. "What did you expect would happen?"

  
Jasmine cottage smelt of incense and spices mingled with the warm scents of a home cooked meal of roasted chicken. She pulled out a chair next to Newt and started passing out the food items, a very American way to serve dinner, Aziraphale noted.

  
"Did you both expect to give up everything and it not to change you?"

  
"I guess we had never given it a thought." The Angel passed a bowl of green beans over to Crowley.

  
Newt, who was still getting the hang of the supernatural, looked confused still. "Literal wings?"

  
"Yup." Crowley dished out some beans on his plate and passed the bowl on. "Blacker than black, whiter than white."

  
"But no horns or halo?" Newt could be a very literal person sometimes.

  
"No, no. None of that. Just wings. Well, and he was the serpent in the Garden, so there is that."

  
Crowley tipped his shades down to wink with his snake like eyes at Newt, who had quite forgotten about seeing him without his sunglasses at the airfield.

  
"I think it's actually very special. Like a memento of what we all did that day." Anathema smiled as she carved the bird. "I know we won't forget, but it will be permanently etched in history through the two of you." For Anathema, time looked different than for other humans. She could see the wider view. What was hard for her was to see things in the moment. She was learning. Newt and his practical nature helped.

  
Crowley appreciated that perspective. And regardless, did it matter what color their feathers were? In the grand scheme of things, did it really?

  
Dinner passed, and he continued to mull over these thoughts.

...

The following morning was crisp and cool, a gentle breeze filled the trees, and the smell of decaying leaves was everywhere. Aziraphale had made them a light breakfast, which was ready when Crowley woke up.

The Angel had actually gone to bed that night for the first time in almost 200 years, but was up before the sun bustling about the kitchen. Now they were standing outside taking in the morning. "Fancy a flight?" A warm smile filled Aziraphale's face.

  
"I'd like that." With a woosh, two sets of wings emerged. This time they didn't give them a second glace. In moments, Crowley was off. Aziraphale could swear he could hear him laughing. The Angel took off after him, shooting up towards the clouds. It was a game of chase for a while, both beings grinning from ear to ear.

  
This, it was all worth it for this. Crowley was sure Heaven and Hell were watching screaming angrily at them, and he didn't care. Neither of them did. They were on their own side now.


End file.
